Silence dominated the inside of the tent
where Zak and T’Riss prepared to catch a few hours of sleep before their turn
at watch. Zak felt ill at ease, full of some strange foreboding he couldn’t
name but which had him as jumpy as Ilztafay, and just as nervous. Zak wasn’t
sure which was worse: darkness born of artifice and magic such as they’d ridden
in during the day or this real and present darkness which crept and crawled,
pervading everything and everyone with its foul nocturnal chill.
The prickling tingles that meandered
across Zakn’yl’s nape and shot down his spine decided the matter. He disliked
both.
He gazed at T’Riss, who sat naked at the
edge of their sleeping blankets with his armor-plated vest draped over his
knees. The repair kit lay open to one side of T’Riss, a candle-powered lantern
flickered on his opposite side. A small adamantine hammer dangled from his long
elegant fingers, forgotten. T’Riss looked mournful. Zak shed the remainder of
his clothing and inched across the ground to press against T’Riss’s side.
“Is it ruined?”
Zak stared at the dented adamantine plate
that so totally held T’Riss’s focus. He felt a tremendous amount of guilt over
T’Riss agreeing to take on this absurd mission and the arisa position. Ever since they’d left Chasz’Chalolvir shame
twisted Zak’s guts at not escaping the four phalanxes of the Azure Veil who’d
succeeded in capturing him. Zak turned his emerald eyes up to T’Riss who met
them for the briefest instant before returning his attention to the damaged
piece.
Holding the misshapen rectangle up so it
was fully visible in the candlelight, T’Riss rotated the black plate and then
tossed it aside. He met his mate’s beautiful eyes and nodded.
“I can replace it.”
“Then I shall try not to fuss at you for
the sheer terror I felt the instant that monster struck you.” Zak laid a gentle
hand on T’Riss’s chest and leaned into his mate. Zak’s eyelashes fluttered down
over his emerald eyes and his voice dropped to a seductive purr. “Though in
truth I would rather witness all of your armor mangled than observe even one
bruise form upon your flesh.”
T’Riss covered Zak’s hand with his own,
and squeezed Zak’s fingers. He gazed seriously into Zak’s mesmerizing green
eyes. “You worry overmuch.”
“How can one worry overmuch about half of
their heart?”
T’Riss chuckled then, and hugged Zak
close. For a long moment they simply sat in the flickering candlelight, holding
each other quietly. Then T’Riss brushed his lips against Zak’s ear and
whispered into it.
“We are being stalked.”
“I know; I’ve felt it.” Zak reached out
and ran his fingers over the brands on T’Riss’s left shoulder. Ritual scarring
done by a drow male’s House when they came of age, the brands stood out in
stark relief as raised white scars against the sparkling obsidian of T’Riss’s
skin. “You don’t think it’s an elven vampire.”
“Do you?”
“I don’t know.”
“The travelers killed thus far do not
match the description of typical victims.” T’Riss drew Zak’s fingers up to his
mouth and softly kissed them one by one, his lips gently playing over Zak’s
knuckles, nails, and fingertips. “We learned much when we tracked and destroyed
Farunan.” For the briefest second T’Riss’s lavender eyes gleamed as he gazed at
Zakn’yl. “He desired that every kill have meaning. He transformed his undying
pain into the pain each of his prey felt before they perished.” T’Riss’s face
grew almost wistful. “Farunan turned murder into an art form.”
“This creature is not like that.”
“No.”
“When the treants attacked…” Zak
swallowed, his fingers convulsing around T’Riss’s reflexively. “It was nearby
watching the battle. It enjoyed the chaos and relished our terror; I felt it.”
Staring at his mate, a haunted look consumed Zak’s face. “Having been raised in
House Arken-A’te with females who hungered for identical ends, I am accustomed
to recognizing the feeling.”
“That we are being hunted by more than one
killer with a taste for maliciousness seems a certainty.” T’Riss’s long pointed
ear twitched at a sound from outside their tent. He cocked his head. “I’m just
not sure how many of the killers live in the forest, and how many we brought
with us.”
“About half and half, I’d imagine.”
T’Riss’s smile was slow and wide. He
pulled Zak against his bare chest, nestling them skin to skin again. Bending
his head he gently bit at the point of Zak’s chin, his teeth scraping back and
forth before his lips softened the abrasion.
“Danger is so arousing.”
“You speak when your lips are needed
elsewhere.” Zak wiggled against his mate and managed to free a hand. He wrapped
that deceptively delicate hand around T’Riss’s stiffening cock. With strokes
that varied from short to long, hard to gentle, and loose to firm, Zak
pleasured his mate, purring as T’Riss growled and writhed against him.
Their mouths came together in a mad, desperate
collision of love and flesh,
T’Riss dragged Zakn’yl into the center of
the sleeping blankets. His lips fastened to Zak’s hungrily as if he might draw
every bit of oxygen from his mate’s lungs. Two moon cycles had passed since he’d
been inside Zak, mated with him and shown him body to body how much he was
loved. As they moved against each other, hands stroking, backs bowing and
arching as they rolled and loved together, T’Riss made a silent vow.
Never again would such a length of time
pass without the two of them touching souls.
* * * * * * * *
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Be Well ~ Tux
